Rebirth
by mnemosyne23
Summary: Bill and Fleur welcome their first child into the world on a night in late July. What does this new child portend for the future of the world during the Second War? Bill & Fleur, with more or less everyone else. CHAPTER 3 UPLOADED 8705
1. Chapter 1 Now and Then

**TITLE:** Rebirth  
_Chapter 1: Now and Then_  
**AUTHOR:** Mnemosyne 

**Disclaimer:** Not mine!  
**SUMMARY:** Bill and Fleur welcome their first child into the world on a night in late July. What does this new child portend for the future of the world during the Second War?  
**RATING:** ranging between PG-13 and R  
**CHARACTERS:** Bill/Fleur pairing, a bit of everyone  
**NOTES:**  
I blame this entirely on the first line. It popped into my head while I was washing my face and demanded to be written. Who am I to deny? ;) Enjoy!

* * *

Remember this: all things begin.

----------------------------

_NOW._

The room is hot from the combination of too many bodies and not enough air; but absolutely no one is going to leave. Windows are thrown open to let in the meager July breeze, but all this does is provide the humidity an easy pathway into the bedroom.

"She should have gone to St. Mungo's."

"She wanted to be at home."

"Natural childbirth. What kind of foolishness is that? Where is that Cooling Charm!"

"It's not working! It's too hot outside -- it keeps melting the charm like ice cream."

"Then make it stronger! Merlin's beard, that's what a Cooling Charm is intended to _do_ -- keep back the heat. If it's not staying up, you're not doing it right!"

"Here, let me try."

"Where did you say the mid-wife got to?"

"Delivering twins in Upper Wicket."

"And there was no one else?"

"There's a run on births, it seems. All those winter babies having summer birthdays. You were the only one we could think of, Madam Pomfrey. Thank you for all this."

"I couldn't say no, could I? Wouldn't have done, even if it were an option."

All conversation is broken off by a choked howl from the young woman on the bed. Normally lustrous hair is plastered to her forehead by sweat as her fingers claw at the bedclothes and she presses back into the mattress. Her heels dig at the blankets, forming deep ridges in the fabric as her pretty face twists in a grimace of pain.

"There you are now, dear. Push now. Come on, Fleur, push!"

-------------------------

_NOW._

The men are pacing one floor down, wondering why women always seem to cluster, completely ignoring the fact that they are doing the very same thing. Every now and again one of them peers up the stairs, as if they'll somehow be able to see around the corner, down the corridor and into the bedroom to check on the progress of the labor.

The only man sitting is the one who's been here before. "Sit down, boys, there's time yet."

"How can you sit so still, Dad?"

"Because I went through this eight times, and by the eighth you figure out that pacing's not going to do anything but wear a rut in your floor. Save your energy for when it's over."

"Will it ever be over? Merlin, I feel like it's been going on forever."

"If you think that, imagine how she must feel."

"I should be up there with her."

"You should be where she wants you, and right now that's here."

A muted wail drifts down the stairs and all movement stops as it slowly fades.

"Cor, that didn't sound good, did it?"

"Ron, shut up."

"Well it didn't!"

"That's it, I'm going upstairs."

"No you're not."

"She needs me!"

"Yes, she does; and having you panic by her bedside isn't going to help her at all. If they need you, they'll get you. Until then, SIT."

"I can't sit!"

"Then stand. But don't even think of going up those stairs. You'll do nothing but get yourself in trouble if you go hammering on that door, demanding they let you in. Have you seen Madam Pomfrey when she's angry? Trust me, you don't want to. Leave it be."

The pacing resumes. The glances at the stairs become more frequent and more fervent. Time passes in a blur.

Then, like lute music, the tense silence is broken by the clear, candid wailing of a baby.

Mr. Weasley smiles. "There," he says, sitting back contentedly in his armchair. "I imagine you can go up now. They'll be waiting on you."

Bill takes the stairs three at a time.

--------------------------------

_NOW._

The air in the room is significantly cooler now, a soft blue nimbus pulsing at the window and turning the humid summer into cool springtime.

"Oh, isn't she beautiful?"

"Was there ever any doubt, with parents like hers?"

"Look at those eyes! So alert!"

"Weight, Miss Granger?"

"3.4 kilos, Madam Pomfrey."

"Excellent. Just where it should be."

"_S'il vous plait… mon bébé…_"

"Shhh… Here she is, Fleur. You have the most beautiful baby girl imaginable."

"Bill…"

"Ah, right. Miss Weasley, if you open the door I believe you'll find your brother on the other side. He's probably anxious to see his wife and child. We've cleaned up in here enough, I think we should let the poor man in. Molly, could you pour her some water?"

The door is barely open a fraction before a determined figure of lean muscle and long red hair shoulders its way into the room, making a beeline for the bed. "Fleur?"

"_Mon_ Bill…"

"Oh God…" He drops to his knees next to the bed, pressing his forehead into her shoulder and breathing shakily as she tilts her head to the side to wearily nuzzle his hair. "I am never leaving you for that long again, do you understand? Never. EVER."

"Bill, sweetheart. You've forgotten something."

"Hmm?"

"To say hello. To your daughter."

----------------------

_**THEN.**_

"Isn't he perfect?"

"Flawless. He's even got your eyes."

"And your nose. And ears. And probably your hair, the poor boy."

"And here I thought you loved my hair."

"Shush."

"Lily?"

"Hmm?"

"You're the most beautiful woman in the universe. Did you know that?"

"You tell me every chance you get, so I had an idea." There's a pause as a tiny hand flails out in search of contact and finds itself wrapped in its mother's tender grasp. "But thank you. For everything."

"You did all the work."

"Well, I seem to recall you had _something_ to do with it…"

"Shhh, there are children present."

"He's perfect, isn't he? What shall we name him?"

"We'd reached the H's in the book, hadn't we?"

"Barely."

"What was the last name you remember?"

"Harry, I think. Yes, definitely Harry."

"It's fate then. The last name we read before he was born: Harry. I think it suits him, don't you?"

"Harry… Harry… I like the sound of it. It's homey."

"Shall it be then?"

"Yes. Yes, I think it shall." Lily gently kissed her newborn son's forehead, thrilling to the feel of his breath on her chin.

"Welcome to the world, Harry Potter," she murmured, as James laid a hand over hers on the baby's back. "I think you're going to like it here."

----------------------------

_NOW._

"Merlin, she's as beautiful as her mother. I'll be utterly useless to everyone else because I'll be too busy staring at the pair of you."

Fleur smiles dreamily, watching as her husband traces a finger delicately over their newborn daughter's cheek. "Renee," she murmurs.

He nods, watching the baby's face as if in a trance. "Renee."

"She will change our lives, _oui_?"

"Are you kidding?" He looks up from his study of their daughter's face and gives her a radiant smile that would have put the sun to shame. "_Our_ daughter? She's going to change the _world_."

It is a hot summer night near the end of July in the third year of the Second War as Bill Weasley kisses his wife to sleep.

----------------------------------

Now remember this: some things begin _again_.

_**To be continued…**_


	2. Chapter 2 Baby's First Birthday

**TITLE:** Rebirth  
_Chapter 2: Baby's First Birthday_  
**AUTHOR:** Mnemosyne 

_For Disclaimer and other notes, see chapter one_

* * *

**ONE YEAR LATER**

"'Arry! _Bienvenue!_"

Harry blushed bright red as Fleur held his shoulders and kissed him quickly on each cheek. "Hello, Fleur," he said, self-consciously smoothing his hair as the radiant young woman stood back again, beaming at him. The quarter-veela had barely changed in the four years since the Triwizard Tournament; she was still as stunning as ever, and Harry found he was searching his brain for words that had suddenly disappeared when confronted by her smile. Good Lord, how did Bill manage it everyday?

"What are you doing 'ere, 'Arry?" she asked cheerfully, tugging on his arm to draw him deeper into the tidy cottage as she closed the door behind him. "Bill! 'Arry is 'ere! Would you like a drink, _mon ami_?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

"Water? Lemonade? Ze pumpkin juice?"

"Water would be great, Fleur, thanks."

"Harry! Look, Renee, it's Uncle Harry!" Harry turned away as Fleur bustled around the sunny kitchen, fetching a glass. Bill was framed in the arched doorway that led from the kitchen to the living room, Renee perched on his hip. The taller man was smiling as broadly as his wife, and Harry couldn't help envying Renee a little bit, growing up in such a happy household. Though judging by what he'd heard from Ron, when Fleur's temper exploded, you found the nearest couch and hid behind it. _"Sometimes you can see her eyes get all bird-like and such,"_ he'd imparted to Harry in a whisper at the wedding reception, just before the start of their final year at Hogwarts. _"Charlie says if you get her _really_ riled up, she's liable to sprout wings! Veela can do that, you know. Well, the full-blooded ones, that is. Dunno about Fleur. I reckon I don't want to find out. You?"_

Harry admitted he didn't.

Bill always seemed to take it in stride. Harry supposed it had something to do with handling Sphinxes so frequently during his years in Egypt; it tended to put other things in perspective after you'd learned how to talk to a Sphinx without dying.

"All right, Bill?" he asked. The older man's smile proved infectious, and Harry found himself grinning.

"Right as can be expected in a household where I'm outnumbered two to one by women," Bill replied, a twinkle in his eye as he shifted Renee on his hip. The little girl was idly chewing the collar of his shirt but he didn't seem to mind.

"'E loves it," Fleur said conspiratorially near Harry's ear as she swirled around him with the kind of infinite grace only a Veela could possess. She pressed a cold glass of water into his hand before crossing the brief floor space between herself and her husband. "It makes 'im feel 'e is ze _Roi de la Colline_."

"I prefer king of the _mountain_, Fleur, not hill. You know that. Hills are so provincial."

Fleur laughed and gently lifted Renee away from her avid mouthing of her father's shirt. "Do you see, 'Arry? 'E is insufferable, _non?_"

Harry chuckled and reached out to Renee, who was now settled comfortably against her mother's shoulder. "How's she enjoying her first birthday?" he asked.

"You remembered!" Fleur exclaimed happily.

"Of course I remembered," Harry said with a laugh. "She was only born a week before my own birthday, after all. It kind of sticks in your memory when stuff like that happens. Besides, Mrs. Weasley's been going on and on for weeks about what to give her. By the way, Fred and George told me to tell you cheers, Bill, for being the first one to give her a grandchild. They say it'll do her good to get the spoiling out of her system now, so that when she's got more grandkids in the future, she'll know what she's doing and won't be such a mother hen. So cheers, mate."

Bill snickered and leaned against the archway. "Tell them I'll use that as blackmail sometime in the near future," he said with a wink.

"Will do."

"Would you like to sit, 'Arry?" Fleur asked, gesturing into the cozy living room that waited beyond the arch. Everything about this cottage was cozy: cozy kitchen, cozy living room, cozy little nursery with cozy kittens trompe-l'oeiled on the walls. It wasn't what one would expect from a family as exotic as theirs: a French quarter-Veela and her Curse Breaker husband, who was still finding Egyptian sand in his shoes after all these years. Harry supposed, after all that adventuring and worldly experience, the reward was this: a small, neat cottage in a rural district, far enough from town to go unnoticed but close enough to civilization to still be connected. It was so _normal_.

He found he envied Renee all the more. Absolutely nothing about his life had ever been normal.

Harry shook his head. "No thanks, Fleur, I can't stay long. Moody and the others are waiting on me back at Grimmauld Place."

"Got a lead have you?" Bill asked.

"A couple actually, all in the same area, which makes us hopeful they're the real McCoy. Some of Moody's more reliable contacts around the Black Forest say they've seen some shady activity, so we're going to investigate."

"'Oo is going?"

"Moody, myself, Tonks, a couple of others. Not Remus, though. Moody says wizarding people in that area of the world are especially superstitious about werewolves; he doesn't want to bait them. We could use you though, Bill, if you're interested."

Bill shook his head. "Sorry, Harry. Wish I could, but I'm making the most of the family leave Dumbledore granted me." He kissed Fleur's forehead, and the top of Renee's soft curls.

Harry nodded. "I thought you'd say that. Just figured I'd offer. Trust me, you've got the better end of the deal." He smiled, reached into his pocket and withdrew a slim, neatly wrapped package. "But before we go, I wanted to make sure I gave Renee her birthday present. I would have left it with Mrs. Weasley to give her at the party, but I wanted to see her unwrap it." He smiled hopefully.

Fleur took the package with an excited coo and held it carefully where Renee could get a good look at it. "See, Renee?" she said, bouncing the little girl. "See what Uncle 'Arry 'as brought for you? What do we say, _mon cher_?" Renee just watched him with huge blue eyes, identical to her mother's.

Harry laughed. "I promise, it doesn't bite."

The small group clustered around the table as Fleur sat with Renee and helped the little girl pull apart the wrapping paper. Inside was a slim box, similar to those used by jewelers, which when opened revealed a small mountain of carefully fluffed tissue paper. Fleur carefully spread apart the tissue.

And gasped.

"Oh, 'Arry," she breathed, looking up at him with wide eyes. "It is too much!"

Inside was a delicate silver locket. Elegantly engraved on the outside of the heart-shaped pendant were the initials RCW (Renee Constance Weasley). Inside was a very small picture of the little girl with her parents, which had been taken the day after her birth. The small family was waving at the camera, beaming.

"I know she's too young for jewelry," he said, shuffling his feet nervously. "But I thought you could maybe set it aside until you thought she was old enough to wear it? I dunno, Ginny and Hermione both have lockets and they seem to like them, so I thought… I dunno. I can take it back." He was beginning to feel foolish under Fleur's blue gaze. Why hadn't he done the sensible thing and bought the little girl a stuffed hippo like Ron had suggested?"

"Oh, 'Arry, it is _merveilleux_," Fleur said, and when Harry looked up he was surprised to see tears in her eyes. She stood up, carefully handing Renee to Bill, and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. "Do not even ZINK of taking it away!" she said firmly, and Harry decided he'd do anything she asked if she just promised to not stop hugging him. It was the Veela charms again. "We will put it zomewhere safe, and when she is old enough we will give it to 'er, and she will love it. Oh yes. _Oui!_"

Harry found he was blushing again. "I just thought… I figured, this is as much your birthday as it is hers, and it's a really special one, so I thought it'd be nice to… I dunno, give it a family feel."

Bill clapped him on the back. "Cheers, Harry," he said, smiling warmly. "It's great."

"You think?"

"_Oui_, we do." Fleur bussed him on both cheeks again before stepping back to gently lift the locket from its case. The silver seemed to gain fresh brilliance set against her ivory skin.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair self-consciously. "So… Happy birthday, Renee," he said, with a half-smile for the little girl who was staring at the locket her mother was showing her. She tore her eyes away from the shiny charm at the sound of her name and reflexively opened and shut her fingers in Harry's direction, in a childlike pantomime of a wave. Harry found his smile soften and returned the gesture.

"You sure you can't stay a bit?" Bill asked. Then, enticingly, "We've got caaaake."

Harry laughed. "I wish!" he said. "But I really do have to go. Moody'll skin me alive if I keep them waiting. But save me a slice, yeah? With luck we'll be back for the big shindig next week. Why is the party next week again?"

"They wanted to double up the gift-giving between you and Ren-len here. So you'd better make sure you're back or mum will go spare. Besides, they had to wait so Charlie can make it up from Romania."

"And he couldn't come sooner because…?"

"Mating season."

"Ohhh."

"Dragons like to mate when it's hot. Makes them frisky."

"Zey are not ze only ones, _oui?_" Fleur teased, looking at Bill through her lashes.

"Okay, that's absolutely my cue to leave," Harry said, grinning despite the heat that suffused his cheeks. He put down his glass, gave Fleur a quick hug -- quick as he could manage without letting go _too_ soon -- and shook Bill's hand. "Happy Birthday, Renee!" he said, gently stroking the little girl's soft red curls; if she had her mother's eyes, she most certainly had her father's hair. She cooed and flailed out for his hand, trying to bring it to her mouth. He laughed and pulled away.

"Good luck in Germany, Harry," Bill said, and his tone now was more serious. "We haven't seen head nor tail from You-Know-Who in months -- it'd be nice to flush him out at last and have done. But be careful, yeah?"

"Always," Harry answered.

"We want Renee to know the person who gave her the locket."

"Don't worry about me, Bill," Harry assured him. "I can take care of myself."

"Jus' be careful anyway," Fleur chimed in as they walked to the door. "We worry."

"You sound like Mrs. Weasley."

"_Merci_."

It seemed to take him forever to get outside and on his way again, though he didn't mind a bit. There was something comforting about the knowledge that a family like Bill and Fleur's was out there during this dark period of wizarding history. It was nice to know that despite all the hardships and dangers of life during the Second War, something as simple as hearth and home could still exist.

_Enjoy it, Renee,_ he thought somberly as he walked away, back towards his original Apparation point; not because he had to, but because he wanted to enjoy the cool air on his face. _You never know what might happen to change it. You never know._

He hoped she never had to find out.

----------------------------------------

"And then the wizard would plant his feet and say, _Lo, I summon you, creatures of deep places. Lo I call you unto me in the sacrificial bargain. So I call, and so you must answer._ BOO!"

Renee laughed, clapping her hands happily, and Bill relaxed his face out of its grim rictus, grinning at the little girl in her crib. "And that was how wizards in the old days did very bad things," he explained, stroking her hair. "So don't you even _think_ of trying that, young lady, or your mother and I will be very, very cross with you, understand?"

Renee cooed and latched onto the side of his hand, furrowing the brow between her blue eyes as she sucked with abandon.

Bill chuckled, prying his hand loose. "Sometimes I think we took you off your bottle too quickly, Ren-len," he said with a soft laugh.

"She took 'erself off it, _mon amour, rappelez-vous_." Bill looked over his shoulder to see Fleur standing in the doorway, arms crossed loosely over her stomach. She was wearing her favorite blue satin negligee and matching dressing gown; they made her eyes seem to glow. "She wanted to eat like 'er _père, oui?_ I remember zis very well." Her eyes were sparkling.

Bill grinned, reaching behind him to take her hand and draw her deeper into the room. "Eat _like_ or eat _period_?" he teased. "I think I'm her favorite chew toy."

"_Non_, zat would be 'er stuffed puppy. She likes to suck on 'is ear." Leaning over the edge of the crib, Fleur pressed a tender kiss to her daughter's forehead. "_Bonjour, le petit_," she purred, affectionately running her fingers through the little girl's auburn curls. Renee started babbling excitedly in indecipherable baby language, pulling herself into a standing position using the rungs of her crib, Snuffles the stuffed puppy tucked under her left arm. Fleur laughed, nodding as if in understanding. "_Oui, mon coeur_, it sounds _très intéressant_."

They listened amiably for a few minutes until Renee turned her attention away from them and plunked down on her bottom, continuing her conversation with Snuffles. Various new stuffed animals and other playthings were tucked around the nursery, gifts from friends and family who would be unable to attend the party the following week. Fleur had rolled her eyes at her father's gift of a diamond-encrusted pacifier. _"'E does not understand children, _mon père," she'd explained, not without affection, tucking the pacifier back into its box and setting it aside. _"We will reset ze stones as somezing else and give zem to 'er when she graduates from 'Ogwarts. She will never know ze difference, and neizer will 'e."_ Gabrielle had sent along a much more suitable china doll with silky red hair, which was given a place of honor alongside Charlie's baby shower gift of a plush dragon that could be charmed to puff baby powder smoke.

Bill felt Fleur lean against his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist; Fleur laced their fingers together over her stomach. "I can't believe it's been a year," he murmured, resting his cheek atop her head and feeling her sigh contentedly. "Look how much she's grown. This time next year she'll be as tall as me!"

Fleur chuckled. "I zink zat is an overstatement, _mon amour_," she rejoindered, reaching to the side with her free hand to rub his stomach. "You are taller zen mos' men, and she will be only two."

"Still, it feels that way, doesn't it?"

Fleur sighed again, and this time it sounded a little sad. "_Oui._"

"Hey." He kissed his wife's temple, nudging her cheek with his nose to get her to look up at him. "What's wrong? You've been quiet all night."

She gave him a wistful smile. "I wuz zinking about 'Arry," she admitted softly. "I am worried about 'im."

Bill brought up his free hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. "He'll be fine, love," he soothed. "He's been out of Hogwarts for a year now, and Moody's been teaching him everything he knows. If there's one wizard out there who can take care of himself, it's Harry Potter."

"_Non_, I mean… I'm worried about _'im_. 'E seems so lonely, _mon_ Bill. 'E did not seem to worry zat 'e might miss 'is party. But, 'e _should_ worry. 'E should want to be zere, wiz all ze people 'oo love 'im and want 'im to be 'appy." She frowned thoughtfully, looking away and cushioning her head on his arm again. "'E is too obsessed wiz zat _monstre_. It is not good for 'im."

Bill sighed. "I know," he agreed softly. "But You -Know-Who's done a lot to Harry, most of it negative. I don't think Harry's ever really going to feel he fits in anywhere until He Who Must Not Be Named is out of the way. He's too afraid that he'll lose someone else if he doesn't get rid of that monster. The sad thing is, he's probably right. And I don't think there's anyone who could argue that when You-Know-Who finally falls, Harry will be the one pushing him down. He may have a hero complex, but most of that comes from the fact that he's a natural hero. I don't envy him; not one bit."

They stood in silence for a minute, watching Renee play.

"I jus' wish 'e could be 'appy."

"I know, love. Me too. He will be, someday."

"Like us?"

"Well, I don't know about that. Not many people out there are happy like _us_."

"_Oui_? Why not, _mon amour_?"

"Wellll, for one thing, not many men out there can boast having such a drop dead gorgeous wife."

Fleur laughed and punched him lightly in the stomach. "Oh, _oui?_ And I suppose next you will say zat not many women can boast 'aving an 'usband 'oo is so _irresistable_?"

Bill gave her a brilliant smile. "Your words, love, not mine."

"You are an 'orrible, arrogant oaf."

"And you're a petulant, high strung drama queen."

"Why is it zat we were married?"

"Because we fell madly in love with each other."

"Oh, of course." She turned so they were stomach to stomach, smiling playfully as her arms wrapped around his waist. "Always I am forgetting zat."

Bill grinned, looping his arms around her slender body. "Good thing I'm here to remind you," he murmured, fingers toying with her long, silvery-blonde hair. "Wouldn't want you running off and falling in love with some other Weasley because you'd forgotten about me."

"Why do you zink I would fall in love wiz anuzzer Weasley?"

"Didn't you know? At least half the population of Great Britain consists entirely of Weasleys. We breed like rabbits. And we're all fiendishly handsome."

Fleur laughed again. "No need for worrying, _mon amour_," she assured him, tucking her hands up the back of his shirt so her fingers could stroke up and down his spine. "You are ze only man, Weasley or uzzerwise, 'oo I love. _Je promets_."

"So women are out of the question then?"

"Bill!"

"Sorry, sorry. Just thought I'd ask."

Her eyes hooded. "It is a wonder to me zat ze Weasleys can, as you say, breed like rabbits," she purred, "if zey are all as beastly as you, _monsieur_."

Bill winked and in one fluid motion scooped her into his arms, making her squeal with surprise and delight. "We have other skills that outweigh all that," he assured her.

"_Oui_? Such as?"

"Do you need me to remind you?"

"I zink zat would be mos' beneficial, _oui_."

He kissed her. Kissing Fleur was always an experience, though he'd done it hundreds of times in the years since they met. There was a dizzying loss of control every time their lips met, as his brain became aware that his mouth was touching a Veela; only a quarter one, but a Veela nonetheless. It tended to wake base impulses that were otherwise dormant in the deepest, most savage regions of his brain. Kissing Fleur always helped Bill remember that men had killed for women like her; had died for the same. It also helped remind him that Fleur was nothing like that and had never deliberately pressed her advantage around him; only at times like this, when her own emotions were boiling over and she couldn't control her intrinsic magic.

They broke apart, gasping, and just like that the cord was severed, though a thin filament remained, making the air between them simmer. "Enough?" he panted, knowing it wasn't but asking anyway because he loved hearing her ask for more.

"No," she said breathlessly with an unsteady shake of her head. "I zink zis requires further study."

"I agree." Shifting her into a more comfortable position in his arms, he winked at his daughter, who was only half paying attention to them, her eyes drooping sleepily. "Past your bedtime, Ren-len," he said. "You get some sleep. Daddy's going to tuck mummy into bed."

"I zink you 'ave zat backward, _mon_ Bill."

"You'll have to set me straight then."

"Mmm, _oui_." She turned her attention back to the crib. Softly she began to sing, in a voice like silver bells. It was a familiar lullaby, one of Renee's favorites. Bill watched as the little girl snuggled down obediently, hugging Snuffles while the soothing tones of her mother's voice drifted over her. Within a minute, she was fast asleep.

"I still say that's some kind of magic," he murmured.

Fleur rested her head on his shoulder as he turned them around and carried her toward the nursery door. "_Non_," she said dreamily. "She jus' likes to 'ear me sing."

"She's not alone."

"Per'aps I will sing to you, _oui?_"

"I would like that."

"And you will tell me ze stories you tell 'er, about ze wizards and witches of many years ago?"

"They aren't stories, Fleur. No little girl of mine is going to get stories when history is so much more interesting." He whispered a quiet spell and the soft light that illuminated Renee's room went out as the door closed gently behind them. "But I'll tell you. I'll tell you anything you want to hear."

"Tell me you love me?"

"I love you."

"In French?"

"_Je t'aime_."

"In Dutch?"

Bill laughed. "You first."

Fleur kissed the side of his neck as he carried her through their bedroom door. "I do not know ze Dutch," she giggled.

"English is fine."

"I love you."

"In French?"

"_Je t'aime_."

"In a hundred years?"

"The same."

"That's what I like to hear," he murmured, laying her tenderly down on the bed and stretching himself out beside her. "Especially when you're the one saying it."

"Mm-hmm, do you know what it is zat I like to 'ear?" Fleur's fingers walked up his arm.

"What?"

She grinned wickedly, pushing gently on his chest to roll him onto his back so she was hovering over him. "Nuzzing," she purred. "I prefer when your mouth is doing uzzer zings. Like zis."

She kissed him again. Bill had to agree, this was much better than talking.

---------------------------------

**ELSEWHERE…**

"Is all prepared?"

"Yes, Master."

"I will not suffer failure. If a mistake is made, you will do the suffering, not I. I will see to it personally."

"All arrangements have been made to your specifications, My Lord. All details have been seen to."

"That is good. I would not like to have to punish you again, Bellatrix."

"No, Master."

"Though I will, if you disappoint me as you did in the Department of Mysteries."

"I understand, Master."

"The child will be taken?"

"Tonight, my Lord. I have dispatched two of your servants to handle the situation."

"Names?"

"None, my Lord."

"Excellent. And when they return with the child?"

"I will see they are dealt with, Master."

"As you should."

Voldemort turned from his study of the landscape; he was able to view the world through a magic mirror, which he had charmed to allow him to see anywhere on the globe from the safety of his sanctuary in the Scottish Highlands. He fixed Bellatrix with a hard, red stare. "When Harry Potter returns in one week's time from his wild goose chase to Germany, he will find his home life in ruins and all those he loved will be dead. We, of course, will help that along as best we can, but what will truly destroy him will be the knowledge that they did it to themselves. This is the danger, Bellatrix, of interbreeding with half-breeds and impure races. Don't you agree." It was not a question.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Those like us, Bellatrix, are beyond the kind of passionate impulses that drive such creatures. When a pure blood is enraged, it is a righteous anger. When we are threatened, we do not strike blindly out of inhuman rage. We strike with the cunning that has been given to us from centuries of our forebears. We have learned patience. That is why we will outlast all these muddied half-breeds who burn themselves out like moths to a candle flame. They strike in a moment out of blind instinct. We absorb the strike and pluck their wings as a child would a fly. The predator versus the prey. It is a cycle as old as time itself."

He turned back to the mirror. A wave of his hand caused the image on the surface to shimmer then melt away, revealing an outside view of a simple cottage tucked amongst green, rolling countryside. It looked utterly peaceful in the starlit night. Cozy.

"One thing a predator must know, Bellatrix, is how its prey will react when under attack," he said, watching as two dark figures approached the cottage on silent feet. "Half-breeds are so hopelessly simple to read; their minds are as open as a barnyard ox. They act on instinct, even when their blood has been tempered by human genes, and the most basic instinct is that of a mother protecting her child." He laughed as he watched the Death Eaters deftly remove the protective wards which had been set up around the cottage. Did the inhabitants think he had forgotten who they were? Fools. "So simple, really. Almost too simple. What is even more pathetic, however, is the reactions of the soppy fools who have pledged their lives to things like her. They'll do anything for them. I'm quite excited to see exactly how far he'll go."

He watched as the Death Eaters stole through the front door into the cottage, Bellatrix still penitent behind him. Oh yes, Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour were the ideal pawns in this particular chess game, though no doubt they would have cast themselves as bishops, moving in diagonal lines to recent history. What they didn't seem to realize was they symbolized the one thing Voldemort could not allow his enemies to have.

A future.

Diagonal lines are not the same as parallel, and the Dark Lord had a special dislike for children born in July.

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3 Bird of Prey

**TITLE:** Rebirth  
_Chapter 3: Bird of Prey_  
**AUTHOR:** Mnemosyne 

_For Disclaimer and other notes, see chapter one_

**Notes:**  
Hello, all! I'm sorry this chapter was so long in coming. I actually had it mostly completed before the release of _Half-Blood Prince_, but I got so caught up in all the excitement immediately preceding and following the book, I fell a bit behind. I'll try to do better next time! Mind you, this is obviously going to be wildly non-canon from now on – I hope you'll stick with it nonetheless :D

* * *

There are certain things you must understand, and they are these: first, that history appreciates ratios. For every miracle there is a tragedy; for every heartbreak there is a happily ever after. It is the celestial balance; without these things, the universe would be chaos. While it may be moving in an ever-burgeoning cloud toward entropy, the universe nonetheless prefers order over random chance. Believe that every extraterrestrial collision was planned at the outset through precise calculus; this is the truth.

Second, that events which seem identical are not. There will always be differences, no matter how minute. Indeed, some of the differences will be tremendous. It is these particulars which keep the timeline progressing.

Third, that no emotion on Earth is as powerful as a mother's love for her child.

It is this third which accounted for the scream that woke Bill Weasley at 6:00am on a Saturday. The morning promised to dawn clear and breezy; a perfect summer day. They'd planned a special after-birthday picnic if the weather cooperated; Fleur had packed the basket last night while Bill hunted through the linen cupboard for the checked blanket they'd bought especially for days like today. He'd found it eventually, crushed beneath piles of wedding shower bedding; apparently every member of their combined families had thought they'd spend most of their time in bed after getting married. They didn't go on picnics often; today was going to be special.

Yes it was. But not in a good way. Not at all.

"Fleur?" Bill leapt out of bed, wide awake and sprinting for the door. He flung it open and stormed into the hall, head swiveling frantically, trying to pinpoint the piercing screams. "FLEUR!"

The nursery. They were coming from the nursery.

Running so fast his feet seemed to skim over the floor rather than touch it, he threw open the nursery door.

And froze.

Fleur sat in a crumpled heap on the floor, clutching Snuffles the stuffed puppy to her stomach. She stopped screaming and looked up as he flung open the door. She looked utterly broken, made all the more agonizing by the fact that her hair still looked radiant. Even in the depths of grief, a part-veela could never escape her heritage. "Fleur?" Bill murmured, glancing at the empty crib then back to his wife, not wanting her to say what she was about to say.

His wife's cheeks were tear-streaked, her eyes bloodshot and her lips red and puffy. The words slurred over them as she spoke. "She is gone, _mon_ Bill," she croaked, rocking back and forth in agony. "Someone 'as taken our Renee!"

-----------------------------------

"You're sure she isn't just hiding somewhere in the house?"

"Yes of course we're sure! Do you think we didn't check? Do you think we didn't scour every bloody inch of the house? Gods dammit, why are we sitting here! Our daughter has been _taken!_ We should be out there looking for her!"

Remus Lupin was, on the surface, a gentle, intellectual man. Internally, however, he was a furnace. Animal emotions and instincts surged constantly in direct opposition with his humanity. The wolf that infected his blood wanted to hunt; it wanted to lay low over the trail of its prey and track through the night until it had the weaker creature cornered in a narrow canyon; then the feeding would begin. But the human blood that carried the infection demanded rationality; the part of Remus Lupin that had existed from birth and would continue till death understood things like thought and patience. Regrettably, it also understood the concept of hopelessness.

"Bill," Lupin murmured, laying a hand on the younger man's arm; he could feel the muscles trembling with compressed rage. "We don't have any idea where she's been taken. We don't even know who took her."

"Don't give me that, Remus!" Bill snapped, shaking off Lupin's hand and glaring at him with such animal rage, Remus wondered for a moment if he was the only werewolf in the room. "You know damn well who took her! Voldemort!"

Every person in the room cringed at the use of that name. Bill and Fleur's living room was small, but everyone had managed to crowd in somehow: Molly and Arthur, of course; the twins; Ron and Hermione, looking a mutual shade of green from shock and confusion. Remus had come straight from Grimmauld Place, with assurances that Dumbledore and McGonagall would be along soon. He wished they'd get here fast; things were going to get out of hand quickly.

Fleur was huddled on the couch, still in her nightclothes, looking so frail it made Remus' heart ache. She held Snuffles tight against her stomach and was stroking her fingers repetitively between the puppy's ears as her eyes stared at the carpet, into the middle distance, unseeing. Bill, on the other hand, was as focused as a sunbeam through a magnifying glass; his eyes _burned_.

"Bill," Remus murmured again, though he resisted the urge to reach out to the other man again. "We don't know anything. We can't leap to conclusions."

"Muggles couldn't have gotten through those wards, Remus. Neither could your average wizard. These people were _trained_. They were sent for my daughter and they _took_ her; took her right from under my nose!" Bill looked ready to tear something to shreds; Lupin was uncomfortably aware that he was the nearest thing within arm's reach. "I'm going to kill them! All of them!"

"Bill, sweetheart, please," Molly spoke up from her position nearby, in the room's only other chair. Her eyes were puffy from crying, and Arthur's hand squeezed her shoulder reassuringly as she spoke. "We're going to find her, but you have to calm down. Let Remus and the others do this for you -- Fleur needs you."

Bill directed his gaze towards his mother and Remus saw the older woman sit back as if she'd been struck. "What Fleur and I need is our daughter back," he said, in a voice so cold it made the hairs on the back of Lupin's neck stand straight up.

"Easy, Bill," George warned from his position near the fireplace.

"Easy!" Bill swung around to face the twins, eyes blazing. "Easy! My daughter is GONE! Every second we sit here talking she's getting farther and farther away from me! Who knows what that bastard has planned for her. I don't intend to find out! He doesn't get to _touch_ her, do you understand? He doesn't get to come near my little girl!"

"You're not yourself right now, Bill," Hermione ventured gently.

Bill rounded on her, ebbing such fury that Ron stepped in front of her protectively. "I'm being a _father_!" he snarled. "And if none of you are going to do anything, I'll do it myself!"

"Stop."

The voice was so unexpected, it seemed to even take Bill by surprise. All eyes turned to the young woman huddled on the couch. "Jus' stop," Fleur whispered hoarsely, not looking up from her distracted study of the carpet. "Fighting does nuzzing. It jus' wastes time. Zere is no time."

"Fleur-" Bill began, voice almost contrite; but he broke off when she raised her eyes and looked at him.

They weren't Fleur's eyes; not these piercing eyes of avian yellow.

"I said _stop_," she hissed. "You are as bad as ze rest! You bicker and fight, and all zis time our little Renee is crying, wanting 'er mama and papa! You are _pathetique!_" Remus watched her clutch the puppy tighter; saw the nails on her fingers visibly lengthen.

_She hasn't been just sitting there,_ he realized with a surge of sudden panic. _She's been **changing**_.

"Fleur," he tried to soothe. "Calm down. You have to calm down."

"_**NON!**_" She leapt up from the couch, staring him down with that chilling gaze. "_NON!_ You are all _inutile!_ _Mon petit_, my _bebe_, she is taken from me! From 'er mama! _NON!_ I will find- AHHHHH!" She collapsed to the floor as a sudden inhuman scream of pain tore past her lips, the puppy tumbling from her fingers.

"Fleur!" Bill exclaimed, dropping to his knees and reaching out to her. She pushed him away, her hand hitting his chest like a crowbar, sending him flying backward to crash against the fire grate.

"Fleur!" Remus cried out as he watched her shake and convulse on the floor. "Fleur, please! You have to calm down!" He was aware of the others in the room staring in shocked bewilderment. They had no idea what was happening; no idea at all.

"Oh God... " he heard Hermione whisper behind him. She knew; she was a very clever witch.

"Everyone stand back," Lupin commanded, taking several steps back, spreading his arms out protectively in front of Ron and Hermione. He was dimly aware that Bill wasn't moving; the impact must have knocked him unconscious.

"What's happening!" Ron yelped as Fleur screamed again, curling in on herself in pain.

"She's transforming!" Hermione answered before Remus could.

"Into what?"

"A veela!"

That was all the answer Ron was able to get before Fleur reared up on her knees, talon-like nails ripping away her robe and clawing down her own arms as her skin seemed to bubble, going from silky white to a pearly iridescence that made her change color as she writhed. Her long, silvery hair grew in volume and flew around her face like a living cloud of white; feathers, Remus discerned.

"She's turning into a bird!" Ron cried out.

"A harpy, Ron," Hermione corrected, though there was no power behind the words; only shock. "Don't you remember the Quidditch Cup?"

"She's reverting," Remus added through gritted teeth, wincing as Fleur let out another bone-shaking scream; only this time it sounded more like an eagle's shriek.

"But... but... HOW?" Ron stammered

"It's always been there. It's just been dormant. It needed a powerful catalyst to shake it loose." Remus felt his palms sweating. He'd never had call to do battle with a vengeful veela; he didn't even know where to begin.

"But... if she's turning into a harpy, where are her wi-"

With a sound like ripping velvet, two powerful wings exploded from Fleur's shoulders, shredding the back of her negligee as she howled with pain. Blood dewed on the white feathers, running in rivulets onto the carpet. They weren't angel wings, or fairy wings; these were hawk wings. Eagle wings.

She was a bird of prey.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Fleur stopped screaming and slumped forward on the floor, sucking air into her lungs in deep, panting gasps. Blood soaked her back and stained some of her feathery hair a brilliant crimson red.

For a moment, all other breathing in the room seemed to stop. Eventually, Remus managed to murmur, "Fleur?"

There was no answer.

"Fleur? Can you hear me?"

There was a sensation of being in a wind tunnel and Lupin squinted into the rush of air. The wings were flapping now, beating against the still air of the living room. With one mighty beat Fleur raised up off the floor, wings balancing her as she settled on her feet. All signs of distress were gone from her face; she was a mask of clinical rage.

"Fleur," Remus managed, careful to keep his tone modulated. He saw her flexing her talon-like fingers against her pearlescent thigh as her eyes fixated on him. She was still beautiful; not a full harpy, then. There was still human in her, though it was buried deep. "Are you listening to me? You need to calm down. You're not yourself."

"Wrong," she said, in a voice like cold mountain aeries. "Zis _is_ me."

She stormed past them, heading to the front door, broad wings knocking a lamp from a side table as she went. No one followed her -- there would have been no point. They heard the door open; heard the rhythmic thumping of her wings beating as she lifted off the ground and into the sky; then silence.

"Where has she gone?" Fred asked eventually, his voice betraying the same shaky disbelief everyone was feeling.

"To find Renee," Remus murmured.

"How?" Molly whispered. She was staring at the bloodstains on the carpet.

"I don't know." Remus sighed, dropping his arms finally and rubbing his face with exhaustion. "I just don't know."

"Professor Lupin?"

"Mm? Yes, Hermione?"

"What about Bill?"

Remus froze. Very slowly, he lowered his hands and turned his head to look at the man who was slowly regaining consciousness beside the fireplace. "Fred? George?" he said firmly.

"Professor?"

"Hold him down."

"Why, Professor?"

"Just do i-!"

Then the world exploded.

----------------------------------------

"Is that the child, Bellatrix?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"She is quiet. Good."

"I ensured she would be, Lord."

"And the ones who took her?"

"Disposed of."

"Excellent. They would have been distractions otherwise. I hope they left a good trail for our falcon to follow?"

"Yes, Lord. She will need eagle eyes to follow it."

"Lucky for us that is precisely what she'll have. Not so lucky, perhaps, for her. Do we have confirmation of her transformation?"

"Our agents confirm seeing her, Master."

"Following the trail?"

"Like a hawk, Lord."

"And the husband? Has he made use of that handy little incantation I placed in his brain?"

"I... do not know, my Lord. Our agents did not mention any events at the house."

"Then perhaps you should seek them out and ask, Bellatrix. That would be wise."

"Yes, Master."

"Leave the child here."

"Lord?"

"Do you question me, Bella?"

"No, Lord. Never, Lord."

"Then leave the child and go. And do not return unless you bring me fire and brimstone about the Weasley boy."

"Understood, Master."

"And Bella?"

"Lord?"

"Never forget, you could easily become a distraction, too, if you fail me."

"Yes, Lord."

"Leave."

She left.

**_To be continued..._**


End file.
